A salty hot dog smoke invades
The yard, capturing one by one
The dirty shirts of on-deck hitters.
Grass pastures are carved into
Perfect diamonds that seal names and faces
Into playground eternity. Stars and Stripes wave
Bye bye to home run balls.
Chattering crowds exhale cigar smoke
Through busy mouths.
Eyes focused, then distracted, then again focused.
Fathers point sons in the direction of the game
To see the man shuffle his spikes across the plate again.
He walks, eyes squinting in camera flash,
Hat tipping automatically, completely, calmly
He disappears into the dugout forever.
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